บท 14: The Logstown
The entire house was rectangular and spacious, almost as large as a warehouse. I roughly estimated it to be about 100 feet long and 20 feet wide. In the middle of the aisle was a row of fire pits, with remnants of burnt ashes inside. On both sides were rows of beds, surrounded by animal skins hanging as curtains for privacy.
While I was engrossed in observing the surroundings, an elderly woman and two middle-aged men approached.
The elderly woman appeared to be around sixty years old. She wore a traditional Native American dress, with leggings tied around her calves, moccasins on her feet, and a cane in her hand.
To her left stood a man in his forties or fifties, with dark, rough skin. His head was shaved, leaving a Mohawk hairstyle, and the ends were adorned with a few eagle feathers.
What impressed me most about him were his eyes—small, bright, and constantly darting in their sockets, giving me a strange sense of familiarity.
Yes, that damned demon. His eyes looked just like this when he started deceiving me.
On the elderly woman's right stood another middle-aged Native American man of similar age. He was bare-chested, with a cloth wrapped around his lower body, and a necklace made of shell beads around his neck.
The elderly woman looked at me kindly and spoke a string of words I couldn't understand.
Little Stream, acting as my interpreter, said, "Grandmother greets you. She says thanks to the will of the Great Spirit for bringing you here. You are destined to lead us, the Haudenosaunee people, to a life of peace and happiness."
I nervously swallowed and stammered, "Yeah, I agree with you. The Haudenosaunee people will definitely achieve peace and happiness."
I had no idea what to say and was terrified that if I told the truth, they'd find out I wasn't the Great Peacemaker they thought I was.
I had no doubt that if they discovered the truth, the next moment they'd scalp me. So I had no choice but to pretend to be the Great Peacemaker they spoke of.
But I really wanted to tell this elderly woman that it wasn't the Great Spirit who brought me here, but a damned, malicious demon who sent me here because I refused to buy a VIP service.
Ah, the fucking Subscription era.
After a while, the elderly woman and the others left, leaving only Little Stream to keep me company. Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Little Stream, who were those three people just now?" I immediately began to fish for information from her.
"Grandmother is the clan mother of our Wolf Clan. The two men with her were Tanacharison and Scarouady. They're the two Sachems of this village," Little Stream explained cheerfully.
A string of terms left me bewildered—Wolf Clan, clan mother. What did wolves have to do with Native Americans? My limited knowledge of Native Americans was confined to their penchant for scalping.
As I was digesting this information, I heard faint whimpering sounds from under the bed.
Little Stream, hearing the sounds, quickly pulled out a small white puppy from beneath the bed.
Oh, buddy, you're not dead.
I remembered that this puppy was the one I had encountered by the water. I hadn't abandoned it during my desperate escape, and it had followed me as I jumped off the cliff.
To my surprise, it was just as lucky as I was, surviving the fall unscathed.
Little Stream stroked its fur as the adorable puppy whimpered and licked her hand. "Does this little wolf have a name?" she asked me.
"Hmmm, is it a wolf? Let me think. How about… Pointy Ears?" I said through gritted teeth.
"What a strange name. Oh well. It must be hungry," Little Stream said, placing the puppy down and running out of the longhouse. Soon, she returned with a bowl of corn porridge and placed it on the ground.
The puppy eagerly lapped up the porridge, clearly starving. After it finished, Little Stream picked it up and placed it on my bed.
She playfully stuck out her tongue at me. "I'm off to help my mother now. I'll come back to check on you later."
"Okay, bye," I replied with a smile.
After Little Stream left, I was finally alone to think.
The pup, now full, curled up beside me and fell asleep. Stroking its soft fur, I fell into deep thought.
System, are you there?
No response.
Right, I forgot it was a budget model.
System, what does Wolf Clan mean?
"In the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, clans are the basic social units. Each nation is composed of different clans. As a matrilineal society, clans are connected through a common female ancestor, and women hold leadership roles as clan mothers. The number of clans varies by nation—Mohawk people have three clans, while the Oneida have nine. Members of the same clan, regardless of their nation, are considered kin. Clans are often represented by birds or animals, divided into three elements: water, land, and air. Bears, wolves, and deer represent the land; turtles, eels, and beavers the water; and snipe, hawks, and herons the air."
The system's explanation was an eye-opener. I had only heard of Native American tribes before, but it seemed their society was more accurately described as a clan-based federation. Clan bonds appeared to be stronger than tribal or national ties.
From yesterday to today, only two days had passed, but it felt like an eternity. These two days were more eventful than my entire twenty years of life combined.
At least I was temporarily safe for now. No matter how long I could pretend to be the Great Peacemaker, at least for the time being, my scalp was intact.
I smiled bitterly at the thought.
---
And so, I lay in bed for over ten days, during which I was cared for by the beautiful sisters Sose and Linda, who provided me with good food and care. Little Stream often stopped by to chat and keep me company, from whom I managed to extract a lot of information.
I learned that the place I was in was called Logstown, near the confluence of the Ohio River.
Part of the Seneca people from the Six Nations had migrated to the Ohio Valley, where they lived alongside the Delaware and Shawnee people to form Logstown.
Now, it had become the largest Native American settlement in the Ohio Valley, inhabited by people from various tribes.
The elderly woman I had met was Little Stream's grandmother, Aliquippa, the most respected clan mother in the village, known to white colonists as Queen Aliquippa.
Tanacharison and Scarouady were referred to as "Half Kings." They were supervisors appointed by the Grand Council of the Iroquois Confederacy to oversee and manage Native Americans living in the Ohio Valley.
Tanacharison, a Seneca leader, was responsible for monitoring the Delaware people, while Scarouady, an Oneida leader, managed the Shawnee.
This Ohio Valley was a powder keg. The British and French were on the verge of conflict, both eager to seize this fertile land.
Meanwhile, the original inhabitants, the Native Americans, could only stand by or ally with one side to against the other, while their internal divisions persisted.
The Iroquois Confederacy was still the strongest force in the Great Lakes and Ohio regions, but their short-sighted leaders failed to leverage their advantage against the colonizers to protect their home. Instead, they exploited their Delaware and Shawnee subjects, selling their lands to the colonizers.
Ultimately, not only did the Delaware and Shawnee break free from Iroquois control, but the once-mighty Iroquois Confederacy also fell apart.
They thought sacrificing the Delaware and Shawnee would bring them safety, but they were digging their own graves.
Twenty days had passed since I first arrived. My wounds had finally healed, and I was able to move around.
On this sunny day, I stepped outside the longhouse for the first time to see the entire village.
The village was quite large, with dozens of longhouses scattered throughout.
Children ran and played, laughing and shouting happily. Nearby, a few Native American women pounded corn in stone mortars while chatting, occasionally scolding the overly rowdy children.
The afternoon sun bathed the village, the longhouses standing silently amid the scene of playing children and hardworking women. From time to time, wisps of smoke curled from the longhouses, set against the backdrop of verdant mountains, clear blue skies, and white clouds—a peaceful and idyllic rural scene.
Only the tall palisades at the village's edge served as a silent reminder that this was not a tranquil utopia.
"You can walk now?" Little Stream's cheerful voice called out as she bounced toward me. "I just came out of the longhouse. They're discussing sending envoys to inform the other tribes and convene a great council to announce your arrival."
Her words hit me like a thunderbolt, and my heart raced.
I swallowed nervously and stammered, "A great council?"
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